


Taming of the Trickster

by UnhelpfulPanda



Series: JohnDave Week [11]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Attempted mugging, JohnDave Week, M/M, Urban Fantasy, alchemist Dave, idk how to tag, kitsune john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 14:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15145598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnhelpfulPanda/pseuds/UnhelpfulPanda
Summary: Dave is a local alchemist with no sense of self-preservation, and John is a very young kitsune who gets attacked and injured by a dog and needs some assistance.Day 1 of johndaveweek 2018, urban fantasy





	Taming of the Trickster

            A good portion of humans, upon returning home from work and finding a wild eyed fox in their living room, would be confused and startled and probably call Animal Control.

            Most of the remaining portion is aware of the occult and would guess that this was not, in fact, a regular wild fox, and instead know that they had a kitsune in their house. They would most likely chase the kitsune off.

            You are the rare type of human that is equal parts aware and self destructive. Its honestly sort of surprising that you haven’t been eaten, turned, or otherwise cursed by now. You suppose its because the occult you’ve encountered have seen how willing you are to accommodate them at the risk of your own wellbeing and have been like, “look at this sad sack of shit. He would probably give me depression if I ate him,” and nope’d out of here.

            Your name is Dave Strider, and you have helped out a few occult beings in your life. You are an amateur alchemist, so you need a least a little knowledge of the occult.

            You also don’t bat an eye when you are asked to do things like apply your flea poultice to your werewolf neighbor. She was agitated enough that she could have ripped you to shreds, but you assured her relief would come to her within three days. Two days later, she hugged you tightly and thanked you for your help.

            Jade was one of the more grateful ones you’ve dealt with, but you don’t mind it. In fact, you kind of enjoy it… but like you said, you’re self destructive.

            Anyways, back to the kitsune in your apartment. It bared its teeth at you threateningly, and you took a look around to see how it got in and, possibly, why it was here.

            The blood on the windowsill of the nearby window was a good answer for both questions. The window had probably been left open, and your kitsune visitor jumped in and shut the window behind it.

            “You hurt?” you asked it. It yipped at you. “I don’t speak fox, so I’m hoping you speak English,” you added pointedly. It narrowed bright blue eyes at you suspiciously, but after a second or two of you staring expectantly back, it glowed and shifted until there was a young man in front of you in place of the fox.

            You avoided checking him out. Kitsune usually chose attractive young human forms, so you shouldn’t be surprised he was hot as fuck. Honestly, you probably would have thought so no matter what gender the kitsune chose though, since you’re bi as fuck.

            The transformation was barely completed before he hissed in pain and clutched at his leg. It was bleeding and looked pretty bad off, but was probably not fractured or broken, at the very least.

            “What happened?” you asked as you left the room to fetch your first aid kit.

            “A stupid dog is what happened,” he grumbled disdainfully, sounding like he was following you.

            “You sure it wasn’t a werewolf? One of my neighbors is one,” you commented idly. You heard a derisive sniff before he answered, sounding a bit snooty.

            “I think I’ve lived long enough to tell the difference between a werewolf and a regular dog, thanks!” he simpered.

            “From what I saw, you only had one tail. Means you gotta be less than 100 years old, right?” your question was met with pouty silence. “Which means you’re practically a baby by kitsune standards,” you added in smugly.

            “Older than you,” he pointed out grumpily. He was still following you.

            “You know, you shouldn’t be walking around on th-” you cut yourself off when you turned around and saw him floating a foot off the ground. “Can you all do that, or just you?” you inquired as you ducked into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

            “Kitsune abilities can vary, but I’m the only one I’ve met with my abilities, so it’s at the very least pretty rare,” he explained, the pride clear in his voice. You made your way back into the front room, seating yourself sideways on the couch and patting the cushion in front of you.

            The kitsune narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously. “It’ll be hard to bandage your leg up while you’re five goddamn feet away from me,” you commented, exasperated.

            “How are you not losing your shit about this?” he inquired as he took the offered seat and extended his leg towards you with a wince of pain.

            “I’m a pretty cool dude,” you shrugged as you got to work cleaning up the wound. The kitsune yelped at the sting, and you watched his form waver for a moment before he stabilized.

            “More like a pretty stupid dude,” he muttered, and you pressed the antiseptic to the wound a bit harder than necessary. “Ow! That stings like a bitch!” he complained. “All I’m saying is, how did you know I wasn’t malicious? I could easily kill you!”

            “And? So could all the other occult beings I’ve encountered. So could a dedicated duck. You aren’t special,” you snorted. He watched you with a cocked head and a bewildered look on his face.

            “What even are you?” he asked.

            “Dave Strider, your local alchemist with no sense of self-preservation. Sup,” you greeted. He continued to stare at you. “‘ _hi Mister Strider, my name is_ …’?” you prompted with a mocking voice. At this, he scrunched up his nose.

            “My name is John Egbert, and I do _not_ sound like that,” he huffed. You chuckled softly to yourself as you wrapped bandaging around his leg. The kitsune, _John_ , stayed silent as he watched you finish up.

            “There you go, Egbert. You wanna hit the road or stay for a bit?” you inquired as you went into your kitchen. A portion of said kitchen had been converted into a makeshift alchemy station. You gathered up the needed ingredients and mixed them into a few vials, corking the vials and shaking them one by one to mix them up while you waited for John to answer you.

            “You- wh- I don’t- you’re not going to chase me off now that you’ve patched me up?” John stammered from the other room, sounding absolutely floored by your continuing hospitality. You shrugged.

            “Nah. You might want to take off anyways, though? I’ve heard kitsune have a tendency towards restlessness. I just thought I would give you the option of chillin’ out here for a bit,” you explained.

            “I… I’m on the fence about whether to leave or not…” he mumbled as you reentered the living room.

            “That’s cool, bro. Let me at least get you some food before you head out though, okay?” you insisted. John frowned and squirmed, clearly a bit uncomfortable, but eventually he nodded. “Aight, cool. I can’t cook that many things, though, so… mac and cheese?”

            “Sure, but… aren’t you an alchemist? How can you do alchemy, but not cook?” John asked curiously, floating after you into the kitchen. You began to make the mac and cheese as you replied to him.

            “Here’s the thing: no one expects my potions to be magically delicious. I’m not making fuckin smoothies for bitches to be slurpin up, y’know? So if it tastes bad, people are like ‘ _oh well, down the hatch, lads_!’”

            “‘Lads’?” John interrupted you, eyebrow raising. You pointedly ignored him, even though he was right. Lads is not even a thing you would ever usually say; Jesus, what are you, a drunk Scot?

            “But food is _supposed_ to taste good. Hence, I can’t cook,” you concluded. “While you’re just floating there, can you get me the pepper shaker?” you added, pointing across the kitchen. Instead of flying over there, John made a motion with his hands and a sudden breeze kicked up. In your kitchen. Hm.

            The wind suddenly blew the pepper shaker towards you, knocking over the containers around it. You caught it, sending an unimpressed look to the beaming kitsune. “That was completely unnecessary, you’re a fucking showoff, and you made a goddamn mess of my kitchen,” you listed off.

            “Well, you just said ‘ _get me the pepper shaker_ ’. You didn’t specify _how_ , so I thought I would showcase my sweet moves!” John smiled cheekily.

            “Fucking tricksters,” you muttered under your breath. John was cute though, and he looked excited to have tricked you, so you let it slide. You served the food, moving back to the living room to eat, chatting as you did so.

            When you were finished and had put the dirty dishes in your sink for later (much, much later), you handed over the vials. “You’re gonna have to put this shit on your injury twice a day, once in the morning and once at night, for about three days,” you explained.

            “It’s not… _actually_ shit, is it?” John asked anxiously.

            “Yeah, Egbert, I’m gonna make you slather turds on your open wound. What’s wrong with you?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes behind your shades. “It’s just some stuff I put together for pain relief and hella fast healing,” you added, shrugging.

            “Oh. Okay.” John looked down at the vials and then back up at you. “Um, maybe you could… help me put it on? Just to demonstrate just how,” he fidgeted, cheeks turning a ruddy color. Maybe he didn’t want to leave, and was too proud to say it?

            “Um… sure, I guess?” the two of you sat on the couch, in almost the same position as earlier, when you bandaged the wound in the first place. You applied the stuff from one of the vials and then wrapped his leg back up. “There ya go, my dude. You sure you want to hightail it out of here, though? You _can_ stay for a bit, you know,” you reminded him, patting his knee gently.

            John frowned, looking down at his leg as he thought. “Well… now that you’ve done so much for me, I don’t think I can…” he mumbled.

            “What? No, shut up, that’s dumb,” you scoffed, waving your hand dismissively.

            “No, you don’t understand!” John whined, flailing most of his body childishly (sans his hurt leg, of course). “You’re just so… you’re so stupid and reckless! I can’t just skip out on you when you’ve helped me out as much as you have! I gotta stay here and protect you, maybe even for eternity!” he explained.

            “I don’t think I’m going to live for eternity,” you replied blankly. John rolled his blue eyes, exasperated.

            “You might not live another month, from what I’ve heard!” he argued.

            “Quite possible. Anyways, if you’re going to stay here for a bit, I gotta get some groceries. Do me a favor and chill out here while I go to the store, yeah?” you slipped into your shoes, grabbed your wallet, and headed back out.

* * *

 

            The grocery store was conveniently located within walking distance of you, and you actually kinda liked walking there. You rarely saw other people on your route, so it was very peaceful.

            This time, however, you felt a tingling on the back of your neck as if you were being watched. You didn’t feel threatened by the sensation, but that’s not saying much considering your lack of self preservation.

            Finally, your curiosity got the best of you and you paused, looking over your shoulder. An older man was the only one in sight, leaning against a wall like he was waiting for someone. It wasn’t really any of your business, so you were about to turn back around and ignore him, but then you caught a glimpse of his _shadow_.

            His shadow was shaped distinctly like a fox. _Really_??

            You opened your mouth to admonish him, but then a loud voice from behind you startled you into whipping back around. “Hey, buddy!” one of three young men greeted you, though the way he said ‘buddy’ didn’t sound friendly. Like, at all.

            They looked like punks, to be honest, but you tried not to judge people based on their looks. Books and covers or some shit, right? One of the other two leered at you and spoke up, “We were hoping you could help us out. We’re kinda low on funds right now, so we were thinking you could be a pal and cough up some cash?”

            “Uh. Sorry dude, I think I’m gonna have to give you a hard ‘no’,” you replied uncertainly. Were they… mugging you? Is that what was happening right now? A world full of the occult and you get mugged by three human wannabe gangsters?? How stupidly ironic.

            The one that hadn’t spoken up yet pulls his hand out of his pocket and flicks open a pocket knife. “It wasn’t a request, asshole. Turn out your fucking pockets,” he snarled.

            “Mmm, yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” you responded calmly, shaking your head. This was probably stupid and dangerous, but that was an accurate way to describe you in general, and if they wanted the thirty dollars and your Starbucks giftcard from your wallet, they were just going to have to stab you. You worked for that money! Not for the giftcard though, that was a birthday gift. Whatever, doesn’t matter, _focus_ Dave!

            “Didn’t you hear us? Turn out your pockets or else!” The first guy shouted.

            “No, no, I hear ya, bro. I’m just not gonna do it, ya know?” you shrugged.

            “We aren’t bluffing, we will stab you in the- _WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT_??” The second guy cut himself off with a shriek, eyes wide with terror and gaze directed behind you.

            The three of your would-be muggers bolted, and a _huge_ gorilla ran past you at them, stopping and standing up to its full height and pounding its chest King Kong style. “Is that Harambe back from the fucking dead?” you asked yourself.

            A cute, mischievous laugh sounded behind you, and though it was the first time you had heard it, you knew it to be John. He came to stand next to you, dusting off his hands for unknown reasons.

            As he did, the gorilla’s form wavered and then dissipated into light blue vapor before being scattered into the wind. “An illusion?” you inquired, though there was no need to ask. John giggled and nodded.

            “Yep! The stuff you put on my leg made it not hurt anymore, so I thought I would follow you close behind. I did pledge to be your guardian, after all!” John smiled. “And I’m glad I did! You almost got shanked, you dumb ass! Why didn’t you just give them what they wanted? It would have been much less dangerous!” he complained.

            Before he could continue scolding you, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. He was too shocked to respond to your surprise smooch, but that was fine by you. “That was your thanks for saving me,” you explained before he could ask. He just stared at you with wide, dumbfounded blue eyes.

            When he finally reacted, it was his face going an adorable scarlet color. “Now I _definitely_ will have to be your guardian for eternity,” he muttered, flustered.

            “I’m starting to think I would enjoy that,” you smirked. You held out your hand for him to hold, and he took it with a sigh of acceptance. “Come on, you can help me pick out the groceries. I’ll be getting groceries for you for eternity, after all,” you added.

            John grinned slyly at you. “I think I like the sound of that,” he chuckled.

            As you walked hand in hand to the grocery store, you couldn’t help but notice your shadows. Yours looked like it always had, of course, but his…

            His shadow was fox shaped.


End file.
